Colors in a Span of Grey
by The.Guiding.Star
Summary: Or...Stories of discoveries, a Cybertronian version of Stockholm Syndrome, outcasts, loving someone beyond reach, and overprotective mentors.  Starring Rodimus, Firestar, Flareup, Jetfire, Glyph, Wheeljack, Sentinel, Slipstream, and other characters.


Hello, my pretties.

While Christmas isn't for another couple of days or so, I found about this song meme having gone around for some time, and I tried my hand at it.

I suck. I really do. My writing is horrible... It's usually better when I have, I dunno, more than five or six minutes to think of a plot and words.

I** had** to get these stories out of my head…."emptying the pail", as my acting teacher Betty says. :D

But I figure it's in existence, might as well get some feedback.

So, my friends...comments?

Oh, and despite the half-afted work, the ideas were inspired by artists on DeviantArt. Please follow the link on my Profile for more info.

And now onwards to the stories…

**Transformers: Animated belongs to Hasbro**. Not me. Though I can dream.

*cue evil laughter and clash of thunder/flash of lightning combination*  
>_<p>

**Colors in a Span of Grey**

or….  
><strong><br>**[stories of discoveries, a Cybertronian version of Stockholm Syndrome, outcasts, loving someone beyond reach, and overprotective mentors]

**Crashed – Daughtry**

He fitted three arrows to his bow. How in the Pit did he get in these situations? All he did was give Firestar some energon drops.

"Why the frag do you care, Rodimus?"

Why did he care?

Oh yeah, he scared her. Indirectly. By looking like some sadistic doctor that had worked at the Torkulon Facility for the Criminally Insane. The loony bin, where all the deadly and crazy bots went. Where she was thrown in, sane as could be.

She was drugged up at the time he found her. Gone in for a psychiatric evaluation – such was procedure for new Minors. Apparently, that same doctor from her nightmares was there. Explosions and break-ins, and the doctor was gone. But she mistook him for the doctor, and nearly offlined him. When she learned that he wasn't-Dr. Flame?-she had a breakdown. A very quiet breakdown, but it still hurt his spark.

He lowered his bow.  
>"I-I don't know. I just do. Cut me up, or blow me to pieces, whatever you want; I'm not leaving until you eat at least one drop."<p>

The flame-colored femme sighed. "Very well."

She picked up a cobalt-plated energon drop and popped it on her glossa. It melted, and her optics gently close as she smiled. Truly smiled.

Her smile blazed so brightly that he couldn't look away. 

**Fallin' – Alicia Keys**  
>He woke up alone.<p>

This wasn't the first time she had managed to break out of his embrace. But in this place, she was Magnus, not him. She knew how many solar cycles had passed since she captured him (two orbital cycles in Decepticon 'territory', last time they talked). She controlled the ship. She could strand him on some deserted planet to offline, and he deserved it.

At one point, they were nothing but strangers: Autobot and Decepticon. Captive and Captor. Mech and Femme. Then she talked about finding her 'brother' Skywarp, and how much she missed him, threatening to beat the slag out of him should he ever tell another soul. He told her about his last lady love he lost. Even the part where she defaced to the opposing faction.

Their reasoning: They were strangers. Enemies. They wouldn't tell other bots. No bot needed to know. It would cause problems. Then the biggest of his problems arose:

He never loved another the way he loved Slipstream.

That alone labeled this wrong. How they got there: _wrong_. The way their relationship worked: WRONG WRONG WRONG. He loved her and she knew it and she was using him. Insanity.

She probably didn't even love him for real. No interface, no joining of sparks, yes, but the way she treated him. Verbal abuse one klik. Curling up on his berth with him the next klik. Angry words. Sweet embraces. Feeling good. Feeling used. Pleasure. Pain.

And Sentinel kept falling. 

**Cruxificius – from REPO! The Genetic Opera**  
><em>….I sing sadly because I see what is happening and I…I am powerless.<em>

The homeless bots of Cybertron's slums stole to survive. That was stellar cycles ago. Bulkhead was so kind to donate energon from his farm, so that Greenlight and her cousin, Lancer, and friends, Elita-1, Chromia, Firestar, and Moonracer, could at least put fresh energon in their tanks so they wouldn't malfunction.

_Blind was I, without sight. Deaf was I, without song._

She came in close contact with the outsiders of Cybertronian society. The poor. The defenseless. Neutrals. Sometimes orphans. She was one of them. A defunct femme. Broken. Useless. Dead weight.

"Sing us a song, Greenlight!", they would contentedly ask her as they relaxed in an almost-circle with cubes of fresh energon in their servos.

_…But now I sing and see clearly….clearly…._

Now she was on a stolen, ancient Decepticon warship, reformatted for Chromia's team, on a search for her 'sister' Elita-1. Far, far away from that little warehouse between Iacon and Kalis.

_….I will find my way home…._

But with one song from her vocal ridges, she could be there in a sparkbeat.

_…..Home._

**The Scientist – Coldplay**  
>"I'm sorry, so sorry….come back", Perceptor felt himself whisper, reaching for Moonracer and watching her run away in tears, in the spaces between his digits.<p>

That was his last memory of her. Now…now she was gone, forever lost to the stars, until she and her friends found Elita-1. Who was dead.

The solar cycles passed. His body healed from Chromia's attack, but his spark—his spark hurt. It hurt badly, even though Red Alert said nothing was physically degenerating.

Where had he gone wrong? Wrong enough for Moonracer to do what she did, wrong enough for overprotective Chromia to come after him and rip his vocal chords from his chassis pillar, wrong enough for Moonie to run away and never come back? Where? When? Why?

All those experiments, the test subjects: the insane bots, the defunct bots, the offline shells of bots, the tampered protoforms, the unwilling-all unwilling victims, not volunteers, his experiences with Moonracer, her charity work of helping the destitute, taught him that. All that, done in the dark, in secret, so bots like Moonracer never had to know just how the Autobots kept winning their battles. It was for the best, it was to win the war, in the name of peace and science. Is that where he went wrong? Was losing his best friend Primus' way of punishing him? What was worse was that she wasn't offline. Nothing physical kept them apart. But she chose to follow her mentor's journey to find her friend, instead of staying with him. Wheeljack would think it was selfish, but what did he know about sacrificing one's soul, if such a thing existed, for the greater good? Perceptor gave his intellect, his creations, his work, his time to the Autobot cause. Was he not due some happiness?

Go back to the start. The scientific answer to all problems was to find the source.

Back. Before the almost kiss that Wheeljack interrupted. Before Moonracer thought him to shoot. Before she called him 'Percy'. Before she saved him from one of Wheeljack's inventions gone awry. Before that time she punched him after he scolded her about organizing his things. Before that solar cycle she came to the Guild Sciencus, wanting to be 'helpful'.

He made guesses, going in circles. Only more problems. It all involved his spark, his emotions. This was not rocket science, puzzles and numbers he could touch with his servos and pull apart in his mind. It was all so….hard. The spark….his spark…..his emotions…..it hurt….it all hurt…..science = the search for truth…

….the truth: he loved her. Loves her still. She's gone but she still haunts him and it hurts and the source the start of it all were the emotions in his spark.

Get rid of it. Not his spark, oh no, he was too valuable.

Get rid of his emotions.

And in trying to lose his emotions he lost his memories of her.

Back to the start he went, and life progressed onward. 

**Savior Self – Cree Summer **  
>Blackarachnia was many things, but not a fool. She knew she loved Optimus, even when she was Elita-1, upbeat scientist, fine Autobot, friend of many, protector of the weak, Sentinel's femme.<p>

That was the problem. Strong-headed as she was, she had leaned on the strength that others gave her. The encouragement of her friends. The praise of her mentors and those higher up. The support of Chromia. Even, sometimes, Sentinel's usually (though not all the time) empty compliments. And yes, the selfless love from Optimus. The love she was too late to accept.

Or maybe not. She did not know how she got into this fine mess that she did, but if she got in, she could get out. She would find it.

She herself. No bot else. No one, technologic, organic, or in-between, could truly help her. In the end, only she had the strength to solve her own problems.

_I'm sorry, Optimus,_ the techno-organic murmured through deep violet vocal ridges as she left him in the laboratory of Meltdown. _You've got other bots to save, and I'm not talking about just the ones on this planet. They're more important right now. You save them. And don't you dare worry about me._

_I'll save myself._

**The Night Santa Went Crazy – Weird Al Yankovic**  
>And to think he once found Flareup scary.<p>

Firestar was a taller, stronger, older, smarter, more skilled, and less happy Flareup. And, judging from the amount of explosives rigged to him and the chair he was tied up in, more dangerous.

"What are your intentions with Flareup?"

"I is not understanding, Miss Firestar."

"Don't play dumb with me, Jetfire." She fondled a large red button pad in her servos as if she WASN'T playing around with the detonator to every single bomb on his little body. He nearly lubricated all over himself. "Where are you taking her tonight?"

"I is saying before, I is takening her with the organic-techno Sari Sumdac to be the watching the Year-New fireworks on Earth."

"And, pray tell, why, of all the lovely, lovely femmes on Cybertron, you choose somebot like Flareup, whose reputation of violence and incarceration just barely trumps Chromia's. Why?"

"Well….um, she is being the attractive-"

Firestar's servo hovered over the button.

"Wait!"

He told her how Flareup broke it off with Warpath. Saved him when his wings malfunctioned in battle. How he brought her energon drops. How she comforted him after a horrible nightmare. Their hug below a tiny Earth specimen with green leaves and white dots during an Earth holiday called Christmas. Their first kiss in a place called Moscow. He relieved moment after wonderful moment, and while Firestar's vocal ridges remained in a flat line, she slipped in 150 credits with his meager 30.

"You is being the generous, Miss Firestar."

"Make her miserable, and _I _will blow you to smithereens."

He whimpered.

"Okey to the dokey, Miss Firestar." 

**One and Only - Adele**  
>A shiny blue servo rubbed his faceplate tenderly. That servo belonged to the newly appointed Chromia Magnus, Pro Temporare Magnus of the Autobots. The beautiful blue bot was chosen by the Council to replace Sentinel, former Acting Magnus, in his absence.<p>

He wrenched free himself from her longing touch. That did not dissuade her.

"I've missed you so much. You have no idea. You were on my mind every solar cycle. It nearly drove my girls crazy."

"H-ho-how long were you gone, 'Mia? I can't remember."

"Neither can I. Ironhide, what's wong?"

That voice. That smooth-like-chrome-stronger-than-iron voice. He could lose himself, lose all sense of time in that voice.

"If it's about bullying poor little Bumbleebee in boot camp, I know all about it."

He felt his spark drop into his landing pads.

"And if he can forgive you, so can I."

"W—wha-?" How could she?

Was she aware, of the intensity of his abuse? What it did to Bumblebee? Sure, he laughed about it all the time, even saying sorry to the security officer once, but did she really know? He found out Bumblebee was an orphan. Just like him. Only, Bumblebee was abandoned. Ironhide was, like almost every bot, an orphan of war. He had memories of his tough-as-nails but loving creators, but the yellow car had only the memory of his creators deserting him on some doorstep. From what Bulkhead and Sari told him, the other sparklings abused him in the sparkling center, too. And straight from the sparkling center to boot camp, where he was forever branded with a designation he probably didn't like, and abused even more. And just for messing up. All bots in boot camp did that. Ironhide did that a lot-that's how he ended up in boot camp after several schools.

"Let it go, 'Hide. Let it go." She pulled him in and held him close. "Forgive your past, and look towards the future. No bot's perfect. It seems hard, huh?"

He nodded and wrapped his support servos around her sturdy frame.

"Darling, it ain't easy for anybot. But I'll give it a chance. For you and you only." 

**I'm Not Alright – Sanctus Real**  
>In another room, somewhere in Iacon, Optimus Prime, the Optimus Prime who had just refused to become Acting Magnus, lay in his new berth. Warm, fresh-smelling, and shaped to accommodate his body type, it was comfortable. Yet he couldn't recharge.<p>

"I'm not ready", he told the Council, and Ultra Magnus, when they brought the news that 1) Sentinel had been kidnapped, 2) Chromia Minor and her team had returned and 3) Position of Acting Magnus was open.

Honestly, he wasn't alright.

It seemed that way. His recent successes, the testaments of his team, the return of several protoforms as well as Omega Supreme. He turned down the position nobly. Oh, yes, he could've fooled anybot.

But inside, he was broken.

Because all of Cybertron recognized him as a hero. Without her.  
>He watched her best friend rise to Pro Temporare Magnus. Without her.<br>He would recharge in this oh-so-comfortable, large, LARGE berth. Without her.

Why didn't he go after her? He could obtain his own ship, set out alone if need be, have Bulkhead fire up the Space Bridge to Earth, and find her. Confess the truth. It was such a small planet, compared to Cybertron. Why not? Why experience these things in his life alone?

He wasn't immune to the cruelty.

He loved her. He needed her.

He closed his optics. That was the only place he could talk to her and be assured that she could hear him. Into his mind.

See her. Her supposedly 'hideous' techno-organic form. Her whole faceplate, but mostly her optics. Filled with brokenness.

"You only want to be loved, but I'm not strong enough", he told her. The Elita-1 that wasn't really there. He could feel coolant leaking from his optics. This was the crying sensation Sari described. It hurt. He hoped somewhere, on the other side of the firewall that separated them, she could feel this.

"That's why I need you."

**I've Just Seen A Face – The Beatles**  
>"Beachcomber!"<p>

The indigo bot turned sharply at the sound. Cosmos! It was Cosmos! He was safe, thank Primus!

He lost Cosmos in the crowd hailing the new Pro Temporare Magnus. While rushing past a store selling energon drops, Beachcomber found him with a short teal-green and yellow femme, pulling her by the servo.

A pretty teal-green and yellow femme.

"Cosmos, wait, silly! Hold on, let me rest!"

She giggled. She had a wonderful giggle.

"Beachcomber, this is Glyph. Glyph, this is my guardian, Beachcomber."

He angled his visor down to get a better look at her and smiled. "Hey. Thanks for finding Cosmos."

Heat ran to her faceplate. Strange. "Oh, no problem. Oh, no, I've got to get back inside the library!"

"Library?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry. It was nice meeting you, Cosmos, and you as well, Beachcomber. I'll see you around."

And then she was gone.

With Cosmos recharging on his shoulderpad, he fell into a deep recharge. He dreamed of a planet he visited, the ground dry but the air thick with moisture. Jellyfish bobbled around in midair.

And she was there, letting a jellyfish land in her servo, smiling and giggling. The harsh sunlight of the planet only made her dark, warm teal armor stand out against the cool, light purple of the ground.

Glyph. That pretty femme with the unforgettable faceplates. Glyph.

G  
>l<br>y  
>p<br>h.

"This is amazing, Beachcomber!", Dream Glyph called out to him.

He could only smile at her. 

**To Zanarkand – Nobuo Uematsu (Live Tour de Japon cover)**

When she came and began working with the Ministry of Science, Wheeljack found himself playing the unlikely role of guardian to both Perceptor and Moonracer. Percy being young enough to be his nephew and being brought in at a young age to work as a prodigy, he found himself keeping ironically silent watch over the scientist and his malachite-green friend.

The inventor kept many things close to his spark. How their friendship progressed. From assistant and professional to the best of friends.

The three of them, Perce, Jack, and Moonie, settled into such a comfortable routine. Then…things…began to happen to them all. Personal things. At first they were good things.

He caught the two youngsters, out on the observatory ledge, about to lock vocal labi one solar cycle. A lot of awkward stammers from the pair and mumbled nonsense from his partner, and the incident never occurred again.

Then everything went to the Pit.

Suddenly Moonracer missed full megacycles of work. Perceptor began to fall behind on some projects. Wheeljack was too drained to do…a lot of things.

Then the accident happened. Moonracer, leaving her best friend in all of Cybertron the means to access her credit account so the damage of the Guild could be repaired, abandoned the Ministry.

Perceptor didn't take it well. He locked himself into his lab. Came out only to get some fuel, and…well, high-grade didn't really count as fuel. He hated himself, and made it known in no uncertain terms, no matter how much his father figure and partner told him otherwise. Out of desperation, he pieced together a machine designed to delete his emotions. The inventor decided to modify a little.

Like half his inventions, it malfunctioned. When the red scientist opened his optics, the older bot stood over him.

"Percy, don't ever do that again. I know things didn't go well with Moonracer, but don't worry, she'll be-"

"-who is Moonracer?"

Oh, slag. He had looked into the machine. Perceptor's memories were stored in a disk. A disk made from one-half of Moonracer's pentagonal visor.

No deletion. Just misplacement. He looked at Perceptor, then back at the disk.

"What happened, Wheeljack?"

A deep, tired sigh had escaped his vocal receptor. He was going to pay dearly for this, but he couldn't see his partner hurting.

_It's for the best it's for the best it's for the best it's for the best you'll understand one solar cycle_

"Nothing….nothing you need to know of."

A thousand stellar cycles later, Moonracer returned and visited the labs.

"Who was that, Wheeljack?"

"Someone…someone important to you."

"How important? I recall no memory of her."

"She changed your life, Perce. She changed your life." 

* * *

><p>*wipes sweat away* Woah, what a workout. When one writes to a song, suddenly your mind flies at 120 mph, and you capture the first thing that comes to mind and ride with it. My gosh, look at those crazy one-shots.<p>

Alright, hope you've all got some constructive criticism for me.

Until then,

~Zella


End file.
